Darkness. Silence. A weightless, dreamless void. Then—pain. A sudden jolt, like being ripped from a nightmare, but the nightmare was real.
The first thing Carl Stones noticed was the cold. A sterile, artificial chill that seeped into his bones. Then, the light—bright, clinical, too white to be natural. It burned his eyes as his lids fluttered open. He gasped, his lungs aching as if he hadn't used them in days.
A ceiling stretched above him, smooth metal, veins of pulsing blue light running along its surface. The air smelled… clean. Too clean. Like disinfectant and machinery. His fingers twitched, brushing against the slick surface beneath him. Glass? No—something stronger.
He tried to move, but something restrained him. Panic set in. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he pushed against the unseen force holding him in place. He turned his head, vision still blurry, and saw shadows beyond the transparent surface in front of him. Pods. Rows of them. Each containing a figure, still and unmoving.
A muffled hiss. Then a rush of air. The pressure around his body released, and suddenly, he was falling forward. His knees slammed onto the cold, polished floor, his limbs shaking under his own weight. He coughed, gulping in air, his body sluggish and unresponsive, like he had been asleep for years.
Then—a voice. Low, amused. Familiar.
"Easy there, Carl. You look like you've seen a ghost."
He froze. That voice. It couldn't be. Slowly, he lifted his head, his vision sharpening, locking onto the figure standing before him.
Elias Carter.
The world tilted.
Elias Carter, billionaire, media mogul, the golden face of global entertainment. The man who had vanished five years ago in a boating accident. Declared dead. Mourned by millions. And yet, he stood here—alive.
The man grinned, leaning down to offer a hand. "Welcome to the future."
Carl's mind reeled, pieces of memory fighting to surface. The plane crash. The ocean swallowing them whole. There had been turbulence—violent, unrelenting. Oxygen masks dropping. Screams. Then nothing. Just… disappearance.
His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. He wasn't dead. But this—this wasn't the world he knew.
"What is this place?" he rasped.
Elias tilted his head, studying him like a man inspecting a newly acquired pet. "Not where, Carl. Below."
Carl's pulse pounded as his surroundings finally registered. The walls curved inward, seamless metal embedded with pulsating circuits, like veins in a living machine. Soft white light emanated from the very structure itself—no visible bulbs, no shadows. The air felt unnaturally light, as though it had been purified beyond necessity.
Beyond Elias, massive glass panels lined the corridor, revealing an impossible skyline—towering spires of sleek silver and blue, interconnected by glowing suspension bridges. Vehicles—if they could even be called that—darted between them, silent and hovering, shifting direction effortlessly. No roads. No gravity-bound transport. Everything glided with an eerie precision, like a city that had outgrown human limitations.
Carl's stomach twisted. "No… no, this isn't real."
Elias let out a low chuckle. "That's what they all say at first." He turned, motioning for Carl to follow. "Come on, let's take a walk. You have a lot to catch up on."
Carl hesitated, but his legs felt weak beneath him. He stumbled after Elias, glancing at the pods again—dozens of them, sleek and metallic, their occupants frozen in an unnatural sleep.
"What happened to my plane?" Carl asked, his voice hoarse.
Elias didn't stop walking. "Crashed. Or, at least, that's what they think up there."
Carl's steps faltered. "What?"
Elias turned slightly, smirking. "It vanished, Carl. Turbulence, radio silence, then—gone. No wreckage. No bodies. Just another 'mystery' for the world to forget."
His heart slammed against his ribs. "Then… I'm dead?"
"To them? Yeah. Declared deceased, body unrecovered. Hell, they probably held a funeral. A nice little service. I bet your fiancée cried."
Carl flinched. Anna. His mind scrambled to grasp the last memories he had of her. She had been waiting for him back home, planning their wedding. The ring was in his pocket when he boarded the plane. Had she moved on? Did she still think of him?
Elias watched him with a knowing smile. "It's hard, isn't it? Knowing your life went on without you."
Carl's fists clenched. "Take me back."
Elias laughed, genuinely amused. "Oh, Carl. There's no going back." He gestured to the sprawling futuristic cityscape beyond the glass. "You're not in their world anymore."
Carl swallowed, nausea creeping up his throat. He was awake. Alive. But this world—this place—was not home.
And worst of all, he had no idea if he would ever leave it.